Chapter 684: Little Worry

Qingque lowered her head and looked at her hand—cold white skin, slender fingers, a thin circular star‑track silver bracelet on her wrist.

She lowered her head again to inspect her clothes, the asymmetrically deconstructed general's robe, a wide sleeve on the left covering the shoulder, while the right side was shoulder‑less and sleeveless, exposing the entire arm.

It was exactly the same as the previous scene, even the socks hadn't been changed.

She still wore that mist‑gray, knee‑high tube sock on her left leg, while her right leg was bare, adorned only with an ankle chain.

So the Shen Ce Fu scene just now was fake—or rather, a dream within a dream?

Then is this Luofu?

Or is it another dream?

Qingque's mind was a tangled mess, her fingers unconsciously tugging at the quilt.

She turned her head to look around: the room held a writing desk, a floor‑length mirror, a floor lamp, and in the corner stood a screen painted with a wing‑spread sparrow.

A faint light filtered in from the window, but she couldn't make out what lay outside.

The whole room was huge, more than three times the size of her own home.

Just as she stared blankly at the screen, a sound came from the doorway.

Footsteps.

Qingque's ears practically perked up reflexively.

Her whole reaction was far quicker than her mind; with a swish she slid back onto the bed, pulled the blanket over her neck, and shut her eyes tightly.

Only after closing her eyes did Reason String catch up.

No, why did she lie back down?

It made her feel like a guilty thief!

She hadn't stolen anything, and it wasn't like she was caught by Grand Diviner Fu Xuan for secretly handling Imperial Wall Jade during Divination Office duty; that would indeed make her uneasy, but that isn't the case now!

She doesn't even know where she is—what is she hiding from?

Yet her body clearly wasn't going to consult Reason String.

Her eyes were closed tighter than the Divination Office's cabinet, and her breathing was as steady as a model employee reporting to the Grand Diviner.

Fine, since she's already back on the bed, she might as well stay lying down.

After all, she truly doesn't know what's going on; gathering more information before acting can't hurt.

The footsteps grew nearer.

The moment Qingque's ears caught the rhythm of the steps, a character card automatically popped up in her mind.

She was far too familiar with that footstep sound.

Fu Xuan.

Head of the Divination Office.

Her direct superior.

When on duty at the Divination Office, that footstep would come from the far end of the corridor, and she could in three seconds slip the Imperial Wall Jade token into her sleeve, spread out the files, and adopt a look of diligent work.

The whole sequence flowed smoothly, relying on her conditioned reflex to that footstep.

But the question is, why would Grand Diviner Fu Xuan come here?

Qingque kept her eyes closed, her body stiff as a board.

She could feel Fu Xuan approaching, his footsteps coming from the doorway and growing clearer.

The sound of high heels on the wooden floor struck each step like a hammer on her taut nerves.

Forget it, she'll pretend to be asleep.

Fu Xuan's footsteps halted at the bedside.

The air was still for two seconds.

Then Qingque realized something that almost made her brain smoke—she saw Fu Xuan.

Clearly.

Fu Xuan stood at the bedside, wearing that layered pink‑white robe, the Divination Eye on his forehead glowing faintly.

His delicate face bore an expression Qingque had never seen before.

It was worry.

Mixed with a hint of helplessness and something else she couldn't quite put into words.

The problem was, her eyes were closed.

With her eyes shut, she still saw the scene of Fu Xuan standing by the bed.

Not just seeing, but a 360‑degree, dead‑angle‑free vision.

It was as if her consciousness left her body, hovering mid‑air, viewing the whole bed from a god‑like perspective: a girl with long ash‑white hair lying there, blanket pulled to her neck, eyes tightly shut.

At the bedside stood a Grand Diviner, bowing his head to look at the girl.

Qingque's mind completely halted at that moment.

What perspective? What kind of view is this? How can she see herself without opening her eyes?

She could see herself lying on the bed, and see Fu Xuan standing at the bedside!

Fu Xuan sat down at the bedside.

The slight dip of the mattress under her side sent a sensation through her, and Qingque felt her body sink a little.

Through that odd god‑like view, Qingque watched Fu Xuan sit beside her, his pink‑white dress spilling onto the deep‑blue quilt, the outer layer's auspicious cloud embroidery glinting in the warm light.

The Grand Diviner was silent for a few seconds, his expression complex—brows slightly furrowed, lips pressed, pink pupils flickering uncertainly, as if hesitating to speak.

Then Fu Xuan lifted his hand and took a strand of Qingque's hair hanging by the pillow.

The movement was very light.

So light that Qingque barely noticed.

Fu Xuan's fingers twirled that strand of ash‑white hair, the pad of her finger slowly stroking the hair's texture.

The ash‑white strand looped once around her fingertip, then was gently released.

Grand Diviner lowered her head, eyelashes hanging down and covering most of her pupils.

"Look at yourself."

Fu Xuan's voice was soft, and the tone lacked the usual condescending command she uses in the Divination Office.

It sounded more like a long‑suppressed complaint finally brought out while the others slept, the tone pressed down very low.

"All white now, a perfectly fine head of hair turned into this."

"You slack off all day, the piles of files in the Divination Office never see you flip through a few, yet you beat every opponent in Luofu with Imperial Wall Jade. Senior Sister Yao Guang and Jing Yuan happened to pick you, I just can't understand. The Imperial Bow Trial started without a word, you didn't even say goodbye. Do you know what happened that day—I—"

Fu Xuan's voice faltered; her fingers left the hair strand, rested on Qingque's forehead, and gently brushed a few loose strands behind her ear.

The tip of her finger brushed the forehead, feeling cool and silky.

Qingque twitched sharply; she hurriedly whispered in her mind "don't twitch, don't twitch, don't twitch," but her body obviously ignored her.

Fu Xuan's finger lingered behind Qingque's ear for a moment, then withdrew.

She placed her hand back on her knee, shoulders slumping slightly; this posture was very unlike Fu Xuan, at least not the Fu Xuan Qingque knows.

That Fu Xuan always kept a straight back, with an imposing look.

The one sitting at the bedside now, holding her hair and muttering to herself, seemed more like a limited‑edition from a Parallel World.

"Now, how about it."

Fu Xuan's voice carried a hint of irritation; her finger reached out again, this time pinching Qingque's cheek directly.

The pressure was light, even gentle, a soft pinch, "Even though you're already a general, you still sleep as if dead, as if no one entering could be heard, no guard at all, anyone could touch your bedside, no reaction whatsoever?"

Fu Xuan's hand did not withdraw.

After pinching the cheek, her finger slid down to Qingque's chin, the index gently supporting the tip of her chin, as if examining something.

Fu Xuan's face came a little closer, close enough that Qingque could see, from that god‑like perspective, the curve of Fu Xuan's eyelashes, each one slightly curled, casting a faint shadow on the eyelid.

"It was the lingering disease from those sacrifices that made you like this—"

Fu Xuan paused, her pink pupils dimming slightly, "Or is it my fault? Is it because I'm usually too harsh to you, so you think even as a general you needn't guard yourself in front of me? Or do you think, as long as it's me, it's fine?"

Qingque, seeing this from her bizarre perspective, felt a barrage of question marks and exclamation points flood her mind.

"What the heck?!"